Yeah, I know, I’m a tease. So be it. No worries, you’ll see Alex’s entire face on Monday.

I’m basing some of this storyline on a chick I dated way back yonder. Clothed, she was a smart, sassy, flirty gal with a bangin’ body and a mind of pure snark and intelligent awesome. We flirted about for about 4 months. But although she was forward (and how!) when we went on our first real date, things progressed, and we ended back at my place. And suddenly, when it got to that “taking clothes off” point, she was a bit shy. It took some reassurance to get her clothing off.

Seems when she was a young teen, her abusive dad, who was a hardcore evangelical, hated her “slutty” ways (wearing tank tops and short shorts), and literally poured a bottle of rubbing alcohol over her, before lighting it. (He went to prison for this.)

The burns weren’t HORRIBLE, but they were evident. I’ll be honest here: getting her naked was more intimate than nearly any other experience I had in my 20s. She wasn’t crippled, and she didn’t look like Freddy Krueger. She just had… scars. Lovely, interesting scars. I let her know they weren’t a turn-off for me. I enjoyed kissing them. I enjoyed that she let me see her that naked. I felt honored that she would put that level of trust in me.

I doubt she reads this comic. It’s been a lifetime. We didn’t date long – fracture in the relationship due to her religion. Last I heard, after we split, she was doing missionary work in some Asian country.

But in the event that she DOES read this:

Meagan? This one is for you. I hope you’re doing great. Drop me a line if you read this. It would be cool to catch up.

Not the same gal, but with similar scarring: